Ownership
by Catchline
Summary: He settled himself down, leaning at the entrance, watching the once again sitting down figure of the demon with the silver hair and golden eyes. The demon that he owned but didn’t belong to him. NarakuxSesshoumaru Hints of non-con. [One-shot]


**A/n:** Yes, I know, everyone's gonna kill me for leaving the other thing on suspense and writing this. Sniffs Not my fault, if you wanna blame someone, blame Bda. All her fault. Sniffs again Anyway, I have absolutely NO idea where this plot bunny came from, and that's quite disturbing, cause Naraku has been haunting my head these days telling me he wants Sesshoumaru. Quite understandable, really. Who doesn't?

Not sure if I got them in character or not. Yeah, I know, Naraku sounds slightly nuts with the repetition of 'pretty, pretty', but he is rather weird (ahem! Eccentric. Sorry, that was a dig at my English exam, the comprehension about eccentrics and weirdos.). I actually find Naraku rather like a child, a very strong, hot and cunning child, but child nonetheless. Ownership means a lot to him. SO CUTE! So if you find him OOC, try to see from my perspective, and whether it works that way.

Anyway, yeah. I'll update Demon Blood when I finish the nth repetition of the chapter. Yeps. Toodles!

Disclaimer: Kidnapps Sesshoumaru He is MINE! Okay, fine, all familiar characters are not mine. I only own the nameless demons circling above Sesshoumaru here. Dotz.

**Ownership**

He sat there, unmoving, unbothered by the dark shadows dancing across his face cast by the demons circling the tiny opening overhead. For a brief moment, Naraku wondered if the dog demon knew of his presence, but brushed aside the thought, content on just watching the figure below. Of all the rest, it was Him who fascinated him the most, far surpassing the other prisoners he held within the catacomb that resided in Mt Hakurei – not the half-breed of a dog demon that still demanded the safety of his teammates, not the wench from the future living through various illusions of her causing the death of her friends, nor was it the demon slayer and the priest, alternately having to endure seeing their lover being tortured. No, not even the priestess, only sustained by the bit of her soul gained from her reincarnation, whose only moving bit of her body – her eyes – would glare at him with the fieriest of hatred, the dark orbs telling of the worst fates he would be condemned to.

For they were not _him_.

Him with the doll eyes, with the pretty, pretty golden irises, shadows fringing them like thick lashes as they stared ahead. They didn't have his impossibly smooth skin that shone when moonlight hit it, the sliver hair that glowed with a life of their own, nor did they possess his smooth, almost unearthly grace whenever he moved.

He saw him the first night and wondered what it would be like to break him. To _possess_ him. To make him his. Not like the others, certainly, because of the invisible but ever-present sneer and the unbending will and silent defiance behind the amber orbs, but his nonetheless.

And so he succeeded, like he always did eventually. That pretty, pretty demon was _his_ now, his to play with, his to own.

Except not really.

Naraku supposed that was why the demon held his attention even when miles away. He belonged to himself and only himself, and never to anyone else. Not to the other demons that had tried before, and not to him, Naraku.

Oh, he had tried. The tears in the demon's clothes was testimony of that. Most of the wounds had been mended deep in the night when his captor – he at least had the pleasure of that title – was gone, save a scar across his chest, where poison had been used. Naraku had been, and was still proud of that straight, thin line that hadn't, and would never, fade. It was proof of his ownership, of the fact that, despite everything else, Naraku physically owned him, the demon with his silver hair and pretty, pretty gold eyes. Not just because of the spell that sealed him in Mt. Hakurei, nor because of the little girl he kept locked up somewhere, but because he _won_.

The jewel within him glowed brightly and he could feel the power within him, pulsing contentedly at the thought. He had won. Despite Tetsuseiga, despite Inuyasha, despite the two forms of that miko, he had won, and for that, he deserved a prize.

So he got _him_.

How long had it take to capture his prize? How many sleepless nights of planning, scheming, with that pale, pretty face in his mind's eye? It had taken him _months_.

But he had gotten what he wanted in the end.

And he had gotten even more than expected.

After all, how could he have known about the slender body hidden beneath the thick layers of clothe and fur? Or how soft and smooth that skin was to the touch, and how delightfully slim that waist was?

And Naraku fought to keep this knowledge to himself, jealously guarding his prize, afraid to let any other person know of that skin of silk hidden beneath the now torn and bloodied clothes, the only imperfection in this picture that would have made even Adonis jealous.

Slowly, those golden eyes opened, watching silently as a dark figure approached. Naraku watched it too, suppressing a growl as Kagura neared _his_ demon, setting his food before him. She stepped back and seemed content to watch him from afar, the unblinking golden eyes that stared back at her.

Finally, she sighed. "The girl's safe, if that's what you're wondering. Naraku leaves her alone with that toad thing of yours, and feeds her regularly, for reasons unknown to me." Finally, those eyes blinked, and he nodded almost insusceptibly before closing them yet again.

Jealousy flared within him and threatened to overwhelm as he glared at the retreating figure, the urge to torture and kill flooding him at the thought of someone else seeing those golden orbs, the sight of _his_ demon communicating with someone else. He knew that Kagura nursed no small crush on that demon, and he had allowed it to grow, using the woman to take care of his demon as he could not.

Or rather, as he wouldn't _let_ him.

When he let _her_. Perhaps it was selfishness, yet after he had seen that pale, milky skin that no one else had, there was this curious need to protect him afterwards, to make sure that no one else ever saw that skin.

Naraku's steps were silent as he stepped out from the dark he had blended himself into, yet the dog demon sensed his approach and tensed, his clothes shifting so subtly at the gesture that had Naraku not spent so long watching him, he would never have noticed. "Consorting with the enemy, Inu?" The dog demon had always hated that pet name more than anything else he's ever called him, probably due to the link between the name of his demon form and his brother, and so that was the only thing he'd call him by.

Still Sesshoumaru refused to open his eyes. Naraku bent on one knee in front of him, trailing his fingers down the side of his demon's smooth, pretty face. "After all, you wouldn't want anything to happen to that little girl now, would you?"

Silence.

His grip on the pale face tightened and his voice came out in a hiss. "Answer me!"

Slowly, those eyes opened. The golden orbs were carefully blank, half hidden by the shadows above. "What do you want, Naraku?" The voice too, was bland, yet his pet had a way of letting contempt linger in the silence following his words.

Naraku let his fingers run through the long, silky hair, leaning in even closer to his prize sitting before him. "I think you already know," he purred, letting his hand fall onto one shoulder to push his demon onto the floor as his mouth claimed those cool, soft lips, forgetting everything else as he buried himself in his demon's lips and scent and skin and-

Bliss.

It was morning by the time Naraku slipped back into his baboon skin, all the while watching his little pet pick up his clothing from where they were carelessly strewn near him and putting them on. He smirked. "You better eat, you know. That little girl wouldn't want you to go hungry."

Sesshoumaru ignored him.

The thought of Kagura being close enough to interact, to communicate with_his_ demon came unbidden, and jealousy flared once more in him as Naraku stopped in his tracks, half-turning his head so that he could see the silver-haired demon from the corner of his eye. "By the way, I'll be sending your meals from now on."

There was, thankfully, no response – Naraku didn't know how he would have reacted otherwise.

Nevertheless, Naraku adjusted his spell on the entrance as he exited the cave to bar Kagura out.

He settled himself down, leaning at the entrance, watching the once again sitting down figure of the demon with the silver hair and golden eyes. The demon that he owned but didn't belong to him.

But for now, the pretty, pretty demon was his, and that was enough.

­_Finis._

A/N: So how? Out of Character? In Character? Tell me. As per usual, all forms of criticism appreciated, be it constructive or destructive. Fufufu. (Yeah, I know the language sucked. I just had a Chinese exam today and I have a chemistry one tomorrow. Tell me again why I'm doing this?) Excuses, excuses. Don't worry, I won't bring out the whole truckload of them if you say something negative (cause there'll be quite a lot of 'what the friggin' hell are you writing over here!', fufufu) Yeps, I believe I may edit it– spelling and grammar here and there – in the near future when exams are over and I've finished the pile of performance tasks waiting for me.


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